Sleepover Tres
by corneroffandom
Summary: When the whole of WWE is snowed in at an arena, Ricardo Rodriguez decides to try something different.


Months ago, when Ricardo Rodriguez had tag teamed with Beth Phoenix against Santino and Layla El, they had somehow struck up something of an awkward friendship. He had been alternately scared of and intrigued by her, and she had been amused by his fretful temperment, and, in ways that were still beyond his understanding, they had just clicked. She plans on leaving the business soon, to his disappointment, but he thinks he understands. The divas division, after all, isn't what it used to be, demarginalized until, well, until sometimes he gets more TV time in one night than most of the girls combined in one week.

He's made sure that Alberto's car is in position for his entrance, gotten El Patron his pre-match snack, and even ironed the scarf, now finding himself with some free time before he has to announce Alberto to the ring. Likewise, Beth has some free time and they're walking down a hallway together, Ricardo's hands folded together behind his back as hers rest at her sides. "One thing I never will understand," he says finally, daring to say something he had never really found the courage to verbalize prior, "is how you ever were interested in Santino Marella." He consoles himself with the fact that, should this anger her, she will be leaving soon and the amount of pain she will be able to afford him on a regular basis will be reduced simply due to that.

After a few moments, she laughs a little and nudges him, thankfully more amused by the question than angered. He begins to breathe again as she speaks, her soft, almost lyrical voice easing him even more into a state of calm while he listens, enthralled. "He wasn't always like this. He's more ridiculous now, but when he and I were together... well, he was more serious. There was no Cobra. Admittedly, he's always been a bit of a goofball... but he was what I needed at the time." She turns to look at him with a bit of a smile and shrugs. "Did you ever hear about the sleepover?"

"Wait, what?" He blinks, honestly startled. "A sleepover?"

She sighs, looking wistful. "Well, one year, we all were snowed into an arena. It was _bad,_ the streets were nothing but ice and it was really treacherous." She smiles fondly, her eyes brightening as she gets lost in the memories. "So Santino comes to me with this big idea and, as stupid as it sounds, I have no real choice but to give in to it, because once he gets something in his head, yeah, no one's stopping him." Sitting down on a nearby trunk with one leg folded at the knee, she turns to face him as he waits for the rest of the story, truly looking curious now. "He set up the arena with blankets and sleeping bags and anything he could find, and all of the Superstars stuck there came and we had a sleepover." She laughs at the incredulous look on Ricardo's face. "I know, it was a recipe for disaster, but somehow... it worked. We were warm, and we slept, and in the morning, the weather had cleared enough for us to continue on our way. He may have been a total utter goofball, and he definitely still is, but under all of that bluster lies an oddly intelligent, creative man with a good heart." She shrugs. "That's why I loved him."

He smiles faintly, knowing better than to tease her about this rare showing of sentamentality. Anyway, his focus is on the sleepover. "I'm amazed no one was killed at that one."

She laughs and leans forward. "Well, there were a couple close calls. Jillian Hall was on the roster still at the time, and she tried singing us to sleep."

Ricardo's eyes widening in horror, he gapes at her. "Oh God," he chuckles. "And can you imagine, if someone held one at any time in the future, 3MB would be there and try serenading people?"

Beth winces. "Suddenly I'm even happier I'm leaving when I am. Jillian was one thing, three of them?"

"Don't forget Zack Ryder too, he'd probably try singing as well." He smiles as Beth cringes. "You know, I'm really going to miss you, Beth."

She smiles back at him, her face smoothing out as she nudges him. "I'll miss you too... but, no offense, I think this conversation has fully made me embrace my plans."

He remembers that conversation for long after she's gone, amused at the prospect of all of them clustered around the arena, trying to sleep while some try to make true rest impossible. He knows he could never get Del Rio to get involved in something like that, but just the visual amuses him. With the passing months, the weather gets cooler, the WWE tours going to the various states somehow _just_ missing snow each time... until mid-January. He stands at the arena exit, raising an eyebrow as Alberto paces back and forth in the hallway, anxious to leave for the hotel. "I'm not sure we're getting out of here tonight, El Patron," he finally ventures, turning to look at the Mexican aristocrat and catching the full heat of his impatient stare.

Cringing, he shuts the door and walks back towards the locker room, not wanting to vocalize his idea and gain more of the man's displeasure. He busies himself with various chores, getting some water to last them both through the next few hours and scoping out whatever's left over on the catering table, appalled at the some of the food remaining there, but picking out whatever still looks edible.

Once he's done making Alberto comfortable and easing his bad mood slightly with the food, he settles down on the couch and scrolls through weather reports on his phone. Every single one of them says that the snow will not be letting up until sometime in the middle of the night, which means that street cleaners won't be around to make the roads passable until early morning, so there's little to no doubt that they're not going anywhere. As he watches Del Rio poke around the food, making a face, he can't help but think about what Beth had said, how the idea had intrigued him even back then.

"El Patron," he speaks up after a few minutes, when the idea just will not be ignored. "Um. I have something I need to look into. Is it alright if I leave briefly?" He is waved off, Alberto wrapped up in something that he's found to watch on the monitor hanging in the corner of the locker room, and Ricardo sighs in relief, slipping out of the room and shutting the door quietly behind him, not wanting to disturb Del Rio's enjoyment of the show.

Burying his hands in his pockets, he looks from side to side as he goes, taking in those hanging around with unhappy looks on their faces. He's almost tempted to go to Santino Marella for advice, since he'd already done one of these things, but the last thing he really wants is the Italian superstar to hijack his plans and take all of the credit. Though, now that he thinks about it, if the idea crashes and burns, it might not be a bad idea to have a second person that he could blame it all on... He shrugs. _Maybe I can blame him even if he's not involved in this at all._

He makes his way out to where the ring'd been taken down hours earlier and peers around, raising an eyebrow. It really is almost the right size to carry them all, house a huge sleepover. He can see why Santino would come to such a random plan, especially on such a cold, dreary night such as this. The more he looks around, the more he's tempted to set it up...

Turning back to the hallways, he shudders as the cool night air seems to permeate through the building. Even though the walls are thick and formidable, he can hear the wind and it creeps him out as he makes his way back to Alberto's locker room, still thinking. He's relieved to see that Del Rio's show is over as he inches back into the room, not wanting to disturb the man anymore than is neccessary while he checks the shelves for items that he could use for what he has in mind.

"What are you doing?" the Mexican aristocrat asks, curious as his ring announcer stares into the cabinet, seemingly counting the supplies within.

He twitches faintly and turns to look at him. "I... um. Considering something," he admits, knowing that the fact of the matter will have to come out at some point. If the sleepover happens, which at this point seems more and more likely, there will be no way to keep it from Del Rio.

"Such as?"

Squaring his shoulders, he releases a soft breath, deciding just to own it already. "Beth Phoenix and I had a discussion a few weeks ago and she mentioned something..." His courage slipping slightly as he stares into his employer's face, he coughs into his fist. "Er. Well, she mentioned something that happened before either of us worked here."

Impatience and waning interest bleeds from the Mexican aristocrat's expression and Ricardo takes a breath, dreading the response to what he's about to say to him.

"A sleepover," he finally spits out, struggling to face the mocking disdain he fully expects from the older man. His fingers digging into his palm, he swallows as Del Rio raises an eyebrow at him, lips twitching.

"A sleepover," is the bland response. "Were they five years old at the time? Oh, but this is Santino Marella we are talking about. Never mind. And?"

"And tonight is like the night that Santino held his, with all of us snowed in." Ricardo grimaces, knowing just by the way Del Rio has already responded that this won't end well. "We have all the supplies here and..." His words fail him, his eyes flickering from his hands to the incredulous look on the older man's face. "I think it'd be interesting."

Del Rio watches him for a moment as if waiting for the punchline. "You're serious," he finally realizes, tilting his head in confusion. "But why? These idiotas, they hate us both. And they are... mere peasants..."

"Glamarella wasn't exactly well liked when they hosted theirs," he points out, falling silent by the uncomprehending look on Del Rio's face. "It'll just be something to do, El Patron."

"If you are bored, I am sure I can find something to keep you occupied," the Mexican aristocrat says blankly, still looking confused at Ricardo's ideas as they stare at each other, stuck in an impasse.

"I'll do whatever you require of me, El Patron," he ventures uncomfortably. "But I still want to do this."

Alberto's face darkens even further as he takes in his ring announcer's rarely shown determination. Huffing, he turns away from him, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do as you wish."

He knows that that's Del Rio's way of saying _fine but I won't be involved in this craziness_, and his heart sinks slightly. "Gracias," he sighs anyway, turning to re-collect the stack of blankets and other things he'd been eyeing that would be perfect for his plans.

Del Rio watches stoically as the younger man leaves with a stack of blankets almost as tall as he is, barely making it through the door without dropping anything. "Ay," he grouses, scrubbing at his face. Sometimes he wonders where his ring announcer gets these impulses from...

The ring has since been taken down, the crew prepared to hit the road as soon as the snowstorm has passed... barricade walls, chairs, everything stripped from the room until it's nothing but bare walls and floor almost as far as the eye can see. Surprised by how empty and echo-y the area is now, Ricardo stands at one of the entrances and simply stares. He can imagine it now, one of Glamarella's sleepovers and how loud every noise must've sounded. He smiles faintly and steps into the room fully, placing one of the piles of blankets down on the floor. "Well, time to get started," he muses.

It's a long, tiresome job, really, placing all of the pillows and blankets around and setting things up for a room full of wrestlers and divas, other staff members, and whoever else may be interested, but he does it anyway. He's almost half-way through when he hears some soft murmurs and looks up to find, of course, both members of Team CoBro- Santino Marella and Zack Ryder- staring at him from the nearest entrance. "Hey, bro, you plannin' a sleepover or something?" Ryder asks, smirking slightly.

"This looks familiar. Son-a-ma-gun! You stole my idea," Santino calls out to him, eyes narrowed warningly as his hand inches towards where he keeps the cobra hidden.

To Ricardo's surprise, Zack actually stops Santino, pressing a hand to his arm. "Hang on, bro. I remember those sleepovers you used to set up. They were siiiiiiiiiiicccccccccckkkkkk kk! And, well, we're all stuck here anyway, so why not, right?" When Santino begins to look curious, Zack grins down at his sometimes tag partner. "What do you say, how about we help him set it up and then it's less like he's stealing the idea from you and more like you're granting permission."

"You have a point," he admits lowly. "Fine! Ricardo Rodriguez, what do you say we work together on this?"

He doesn't really care to, not liking either of these two in the slightest, but the room is so large, the pile of blankets seemingly unending... He knows if he wants to get this done before morning comes, he'll need some assistance. Finally he gives in, his shoulders slumping. "Fine."

"Perfect, bros, let's get started!" Zack exclaims, fist bumping with Santino before running off to collect some of the blankets and set them up. Ricardo, who'd started to outstretch his hand for a fist bump of his own, merely frowns and quickly drops his arm back to his side, hoping neither of them had noticed.

The only thing really missing, of course, is Alberto. He shakes his head, not letting the wayward thought diminish his enjoyment of seeing his idea come to fruition.

By the time they're done, word had spread and they barely have the last blanket sprawled out when the first group of people enter- Dolph Ziggler, followed by 3MB, Alicia Fox and Kaitlyn. The divas go to one corner, 3MB take up the middle and Dolph ventures close to where Ricardo is currently finishing up when Zack nudges Santino, grinning wickedly as he moves to harass his rival. Not wanting to listen to _that_ little show too closely, Ricardo quickly finishes up and leaves, reluctantly heading towards Santino. "How's it look?" he asks begrudgingly, since Santino has the most experience with things like this.

"I suppose it'll do," he says in a similar tone of voice. "Now as long as no one kills-a their neighbor..."

Despite Ricardo's growing worry, they manage. Between Zack, Santino and himself, they direct enemies and rivals away from each other and keep friends in the same general areas, the referees and other staff members helping to break up whatever spats and disagreements arise along the way. Before long, they're all settled in to the sea of blankets and pillows, Ricardo standing by the main light controls to dim the arena so they all can fall asleep while the blizzard rages on outside.

He takes a breath and wonders about Alberto, though he's pretty sure that he's alright- Ricardo had made sure he'd left blankets and pillows to spare behind, and the food and water should last him while Ricardo is here. But still, he misses him and wishes that he could find it in himself to come, at least join the rest of them if only to sleep. The room is warm, both with shared body heat and the bright lights overhead, but he doubts that the locker rooms and other general areas of the building are spared from the general chill that had been seeping in from outside. _Hope you sleep well tonight, El Patron,_ he thinks regretfully before pressing that switch and casting the room into semi-darkness, gingerly picking his way to his own portion of the room afterwards.

Despite his certainty that Alberto would not be joining them, he'd still left some space next to him just in case, so he's not surrounded by anyone as he lays on his back and stares up at the ceiling, thinking quietly about all he has to do the next day- clean this up, bundle everything up, and prepare to leave for Smackdown with Alberto. The noise from everyone else in the room is slowly easing off as more and more people give in to exhaustion or just the comfort of the warmth surrounding them, and it's _almost_ completely quiet when a side door opens up, shining light upon some of the people nearby, causing them to stir and complain. "Shut the door!"

"Shut your mouth, idiota!" a familiar voice snaps, sending Ricardo right back into the world of the awake. As he sits up and stares towards the light, he realizes his deduction is correct. For whatever reason, Alberto had found his way to the arena and is now standing tensely, peering around the room as if looking for someone. He thinks he knows who, too.

He gingerly makes it to his feet and pads over towards where his employer is standing, wringing his hands together anxiously. "El Patron?"

"There you are," Alberto grumbles, gripping the edge of his shirt and drawing him closer.

A thrill of dread passing through him, Ricardo swallows. "What do you need, El Patron? Didn't I leave you enough food and water?" He starts to feel bad, trying to consider what exactly he possibly overlooked in his excitement to begin setting up this sleepover.

Del Rio shakes his head, sighing. "It wasn't that... You left more than enough." At Ricardo's visible confusion, he looks almost embarrassed as he scrapes his fingers through his hair. "It was too quiet."

A great many thoughts run through Ricardo's mind at this but he does his best not to let them show. "El Patron?"

The older superstar peers around the room, glaring at the few curious stares he's garnered by this abrupt appearance, before turning back to Ricardo. Pride seems to be keeping him from asking what he truly wants to know and finally he turns away. "I see that you are doing well out here. I'll see you in the morning." His shoulders tight with tension, he heads back out of the arena, leaving a confounded Ricardo in his wake.

Ricardo had heard bits and pieces about Alberto's childhood and can't help but think it'd sounded very lonely. His family being so rich and well-reknowned in lucha libre, it'd excluded Alberto from being able to do simple things like ordinary children- even Ricardo himself- had been able to do numerous times. _I bet he's never even _been_ to a sleepover,_ he thinks, his frown deepening. "El Patron!" This sad thought too much for him to bear, he takes off after the Mexican aristocrat, finding him frozen half-way down the hallway. Relieved that he'd stopped, he runs up to him, shaking his head desperately. "Do you," he pauses to take a breath, try to collect himself so he doesn't sound completely ridiculous. "Do you want to stay? There's plenty of room, and it's not too noisy. I think- I think you can sleep just as well here as you would there," he offers, hoping beyond hope that Alberto will just give in and follow him back into the room.

Alberto turns slowly and although he tries to seem blase about it all, there's a certain look on his face that Ricardo thinks means he really, really wants to but can barely allow himself to feel that way, much less admit it. "I don't like the majority of the people in that room, Ricardo."

Smiling faintly, the ring announcer shakes his head. "Neither do I, El Patron. But the building beyond that room is cold, it is drafty, and as you said," he hesitates, glancing around the empty, echoing hallway they're currently standing in, "it's quiet." He sighs. "Por favor, El Patron. If you hate it, you can leave at any time... but I want you to stay."

The look of surprise on Alberto's face is a little heartbreaking and a lot hopeful as he takes a hesitant step back towards Ricardo. "You do?"

Blinking in surprise, the ring announcer nods. "Of- of course, El Patron. Why wouldn't I? You're mi mejor amigo. Of course I want you there..."

Alberto mulls this over for a moment before sighing. "I was far from kind when you told me of your plans. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't." He hesitates a little bit longer before tilting his head, smiling slightly. "Very well, let's see what comes of this... sleepover of yours."

Ricardo's face brightens as he follows his employer back into the room, quietly shutting the door behind them so the superstars nearby trying to sleep won't complain yet again. "Here," he whispers, leading him through the dimly lit area and over to where he'd been resting upon Del Rio's arrival, pointing out an unclaimed set of blankets and pillows nearby. "Does this look alright?"

"Si, it looks fine," he mumbles after peering around and seeing that everyone's sleeping on similar piles, though he thinks his has an extra couple of blankets and a bonus pillow. Deep down, he wonders if Ricardo had prepared it on the off-chance that he'd come and it makes him smile slightly as he positions himself under the unexpectedly comfortable bedding. "Buenos noches, Ricardo," he says after a few moments.

"Buenos noches," he responds softly, which sets off a series of good nights from all corners of the room as superstars, referees and other staff echo the well wishes. Alberto groans and Ricardo simply smiles, this adventure _now_ finally feeling right.

He wakes up to soft murmurs and vague sounds of arguments, feeling muddled and beyond confused at who could possibly be in their hotel room and why, but before he can open his eyes and command them all to shut up, a ghost of a touch passes across his upper arm and quiets some of his confusion. "Ricardo?"

"Si, El Patron." Awareness returns to him in a snap and he realizes where he's at, what's going on. As the murmurs around them grow in volume, Alberto's eyes open and the two men stare at each other, both facing each other on their separate piles of blankets. "Did you sleep well?"

"Not horribly," he admits. "Considering." His lips twitching into a small smile, he sighs. "Yourself?"

"Si." He closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth of sleep that's still enveloping him, before glancing back at his employer. "Are you glad you came, El Patron?"

Alberto says nothing for a moment but finally smiles a little more, nodding. "Si, I suppose I am. It wasn't as... horrible as I'd feared."

Knowing that's as close to a compliment as he's going to get in this circumstance, Ricardo just chuckles and shifts around in his blankets, reluctant to leave the warmth of the blankets, but knowing that he needs to find out if the roads had cleared enough for them to get out of the arena yet.

However, the sudden appearance of Zack Ryder forestalls this plan, a to-go cup of coffee waved in front of his nose teasingly. He sputters and reaches out for it, blinking up in surprise at the Long Island Iced Z. "Here ya go, bro. Santino and I got coffee for everyone." As Zack sits down next to Ricardo, the ring announcer pauses only a moment before handing it over to his sneering employer, who blinks in surprise before sipping carefully at it, not sure what nonsense Ryder would buy, but relieved to find it's plain coffee. Choosing not to acknowledge this, Zack hands over a second cup to Ricardo and plucks his own from the carrier, sighing blissfully at the first taste.

The fourth is collected when Santino joins them, the odd group sitting awkwardly around as Del Rio's dark gaze turns from one to the other, the derision visible in his gaze. Finally Ricardo clears his throat and glances at the Milan Miracle, desperate to break the silence. "So was this as good as yours?"

Santino hmphs a bit, glancing around at the group of Superstars, divas and other staff lurking around, sipping from their plastic cups or preparing to leave. It _had_ surprisingly gone well, all of them a little too cold or tired to cause much mischief by the time it'd all been set up, but before he could offer a true answer, a familiar voice echoes through the room, trying to get everyone's attention.

"Hey, guess what!" Heath Slater calls out from the very middle of the floor, Jinder Mahal and Drew McIntyre at either side. The three of them look somewhere between giddy and demented, as always. "We've decided to grace you with a demo of our first single to wake y'all up! Ain't you lucky?!"

There's a long, tense pause as everyone digests these words before Daniel Bryan leads the charge: "NO!" bouncing off of the walls before a growing pile of coffee carriers, cups, plastic silverwear and anything else anyone can find to throw begins to bounce off of 3MB from all sides of the room. "HEY!" the band's leader screams before Drew snags him by the arm, drags him back and away from the deluge.

"Let's get outta here, Heath! Find somewhere they appreciate _real_ music!"

He stomps his foot and cries out, "Fine!" before the three leave quickly.

Ricardo is glancing over at Del Rio, who looks purely bemused at it all, when Santino begins to chuckle. "_Now_ it was _almost_ as good as one of mine."

The ring announcer blinks, deciding after a moment that he'd accept that. "I'll get our things so we can leave momentarily, El Patron."

"Alright."

As he finishes his coffee and gets up, he has to smile. It'd been a little odd, yeah, but he thinks perhaps in the future, if this happens again, he wouldn't mind setting up another one of these. And _perhaps _his employer would be easier to convince to join in the next time around...


End file.
